


Rebel Heart

by Braincoins



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Love Confessions, prompt, shallura sundays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 18:18:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9397310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Braincoins/pseuds/Braincoins
Summary: Some rules are meant to be broken.





	

**Author's Note:**

> \- For the Shallura Sundays prompt: Rebellion
> 
> \- As usual, barely edited. Also a bit rushed.
> 
> \- I'm sorry for the cheesy title, I really am.  
> ==================

            Allura had always been a stickler for the rules. Well, almost always; when she was younger, she hadn’t seen the need for them, and had flouted them routinely. But as she’d gotten older, she’d begun to understand that rules existed for a reason.

            And, ever since then, she’d behaved herself as a princess of Altea should behave. She followed the rules and she expected others to as well. The paladins had come to learn that about her quickly, with her insistence on training, surprise drills, and her constant reminders about the Paladin Code.

            With no father, no people, and precious little hope after ten thousand years of Zarkon running rampant, the rules were one of the few things she had left to depend on. She had the rules, and Coran, and the mice, and the Paladins of Voltron, as well as Voltron itself. And, she felt, they all depended on her in return, except for the rules. The rules simply _were_ , and were not to be ignored or flouted.

            Of course, nothing was that simple. Because one of the rules of leadership was that fraternization was not allowed. A leader had to remain separate, above. She couldn’t afford the appearance of favoritism. Developing friendship and camaraderie with the paladins was one thing, but she knew the affection she had for Shiro was starting to edge past that. They’d have gone far, far past it by now if she hadn’t been reining her heart in.

            Her feelings for him were increasingly inappropriate, and it was all she could do to stem the tide and carry on as normal. When the universe was depending on her and on them, she could hardly afford to act like a moon-struck child. She swallowed down the flutters he gave her whenever he smiled or laughed and kept herself steady at the helm.

            She was conducting a test of the Castle’s comm systems, cycling through the channels. It stopped when it picked up a voice: Shiro’s. Her heart raced just hearing him speak.

            “…and none of that even matters.”

            Keith’s voice replied, “Of course it matters!” He sounded insistent and stubborn; no real surprise there.

            “It doesn’t. It’s not allowed,” Shiro maintained.

            Now she was _very_ interested. What could they be talking about? She knew she shouldn’t be listening in, but she couldn’t help herself.

            “Not ‘allowed’,” Keith huffed. “Who cares about that? This isn’t the Garrison!”

            “I care about it. It’s… it’s not right.”

            “How does it get more right than that?” Keith challenged him. Allura waited for a response, but none seemed forthcoming. Finally, Keith spoke again. “You’re hiding behind rules and regulations that are meaningless out here.”

            That was what got Shiro to respond. “They’re _not_ meaningless. If anything, they mean more than ever.”

            Keith huffed again, but Shiro didn’t let him say anything.

            “These aren’t just pointless rules or outdated traditions. This isn’t like ‘lights out at 9’ or something like that. This is _important_. It affects the entire team and how we work together. And we are the universe’s only hope. We have to maintain discipline.”

            Now she felt less guilty for eavesdropping. Something was going on that might impact the team’s discipline? She needed to know about it, and she was resolved to give Shiro a stern talking-to about his not bringing it up with her sooner. Her feelings for him didn’t preclude her lecturing him when it was called for.

            “Oh, it’s affecting the team alright,” Keith told him, “but not in the way you think. We can _feel_ it, Shiro. Every time we form Voltron.”

            “…‘We’?” he asked. His worry was audible.

            “I can, anyway. And you _know_ keeping secrets interferes with the bond.”

            “So, wait, is it a secret or isn’t it?” Shiro was starting to regain his confidence.

            “It’s _annoying_ ,” Keith declared. “You have to say something. You have to _do_ something about it, and hiding behind ‘fraternization’ isn’t it.”

            Allura blinked at the word. It wasn’t a word she’d expected to hear from Keith. Not that she thought him dumb, but it was… so specific. It carried certain connotations… _but maybe that’s just me. Maybe what it means to Earthlings is completely different._

            “I have to do exactly nothing about it,” Shiro shot back, sounding testy, “and you have to shut up about it.”

            Keith groaned. “TELL HER.”

            Allura stopped breathing.

            “I can’t. I cannot do that, Keith.”

            “Why. NOT?”

            “This isn’t like you and Lance.” That both worried and excited her. It was no secret the Red and Blue Paladins were dating, to use the Earth parlance. “You’re equals. She’s our leader.”

            Her eyes widened. She still couldn’t breathe.

            But Shiro was still talking. “She’s gorgeous and intelligent and brave. She’s from a civilization that was so advanced ten thousand years ago that we must look like… like cavemen to her! We’re these backwards hicks from some far-flung planet she’s never heard of, and she’s only putting up with us because she has to, because she has no choice. She’s lost everything and everyone she ever knew, and she’s dedicated to the fight to avenge that. There is No Chance In Hell that she would ever look at any of us that way.”

            _You’re wrong. Oh stars, you are so, so wrong, Shiro._ She exhaled out of necessity and resumed breathing, faster than she had been before. She wasn’t sure if it was just her body trying to catch up on its lost air or if it was something more than that.

            “You don’t know that,” Keith said. He sounded angry.

            “She’s too proper,” Shiro replied, sounding defeated. “She would never do anything like that.”

            “You. Don’t. Know That,” Keith insisted again. “And you won’t know it unless you talk to her!”

            “I can’t do that, Keith. And I won’t. I will not risk this team for my own selfish desires.”

            She turned and cursed under her breath. He was right, of course. It was the same problem she was struggling with. Whether he returned her feelings or not wasn’t the point. It was improper. It went against everything she’d been taught her whole life, and she couldn’t just throw all of that away. Especially not now that she knew Earth culture was the same.

            “What was that?” Allura blinked at hearing Keith’s question and realized that the comm system was two-way. She hastily shut it down and resumed running her tests, trying to ignore the heat in her face and her heart pounding in her chest. All she could hear was Shiro’s voice in her head: _“She’s gorgeous and intelligent and brave,”_ and _“…my own selfish desires.”_

            She wanted to tell him. To put him out of his misery and as well as her own. Images danced in her head of fantasies she’d been having that were now teetering on the edge of becoming real.

            She heard the door to the bridge open behind her. She had a terrible, terrible feeling she knew who it was. She pretended to be caught up in her work and tried to get her color back to normal.

            He cleared his throat, and that was enough to confirm for her that it was Shiro. She closed her eyes and mentally begged him to go away. “Forgive me for intruding, Princess.”

            “Oh, Shiro,” she said, pleased at how surprised she sounded. She didn’t turn around, just kept adjusting screens. She couldn’t face him yet. “You’re not intruding. How can I help you?”

            He approached her, his boots tapping on the floor. “What are you up to?”

            “Just running some tests.”

            “On the comms systems?” he guessed.

            She cleared her throat but couldn’t think of an answer. She didn’t want to lie to him, but it was too shameful to admit she’d been caught listening in on a private conversation, nevermind the _content_ of what she’d heard.

            Apparently, she didn’t need to answer. “I thought so. I… I don’t know how much you heard, but…”

            “I’m sorry,” she said immediately. She stopped messing with her screens and they dropped out of sight again as she clasped her hands and fidgeted. She couldn’t bear to look at him, and she was likely blushing again, or still. “I shouldn’t have. It was an accident, and I should’ve shut it off immediately.”

            “Yes, you should have.” He sounded angry, and she winced. “Why didn’t you?”

            “I should have,” she agreed, hoping that would placate him. It didn’t work.

            “Why did you eavesdrop on us? Is it that you don’t trust us?”

            “No, of course not!”

            “You think we’re plotting something?”

            “No, never.”

            “Then what?”

            “It’s… nothing.”

            “No, it’s not nothing. You had no right to listen to that.”

            “You’re correct. I am sorry.”

            “I can’t imagine why you would do something like this, is all.”

            It burst her way out of her throat. “It was your voice.” Shiro went silent and still, near as she could tell; she still couldn’t look in his direction. She watched her hands clasp and unclasp, over and over. “I… I like hearing your voice. And then you mentioned something affecting team discipline, and I was worried, and I was planning on lecturing you about keeping something like that a secret from me, but then there was… I’m sorry.”

            He exhaled hard. “I’m sorry about what you must’ve heard,” he said, voice taut despite the fact that he no longer sounded angry. “I never intended for you to find out, and certainly not like that.”

            “No, of course you didn’t. You’re a good man, Shiro. And you couldn’t have known I would do something like this. I… I never thought I would have, either.” She swallowed the lump in her throat, or tried to. It didn’t seem to help.

            The silence started to congeal around them, and she licked her lips. He was the one to speak up again. “I’m… I’m sorry if I embarrassed you,” he offered.

            “No, it’s not… you don’t have to apologize.” _I owe him the truth._ She sucked in a breath and raised her head, resolved that she would face this crisis head on, get it over with, and move ahead with fighting Zarkon and saving the universe, as she was supposed to do. She made herself face him. He was red-faced as well, and seemed surprised at her motion. “The truth is…” She had to take another deep breath to get it out. “The truth is I don’t think of you as a caveman. Any of you. Yes, you five are all we have, all the universe has. But I don’t think I could have asked for better. And I _am_ determined to avenge my people, to free those under Zarkon’s iron-fisted rule, and to obtain peace and freedom for the all the universe. But I still have feelings. As inconvenient as it may be, I… I feel the same way about you, Shiro, as you seem to feel for me, if what I overheard is correct.”

            His face got redder. “Really?” She noticed he seemed to be breathing faster, too.

            She chewed her lower lip a little as she nodded, then made herself stop it. It was a leftover habit of her childhood, and not a very royal one at that. She squared her shoulders to try to regain some of her dignity. “And you’re right, of course. Fraternization would be highly improper.”

            “Oh.” He cleared his throat. “Of course.”

            “It would be wrong to…”

            “…to pursue any sort of…”

            “…romantic inclinations,” she finished.

            “Absolutely,” he agreed.

            She forced a smile through the ache in her heart. “We’re both strong enough people that we can admit these feelings and… and move on past them.”

            “Yes. In time.”

            “Of course, yes. In time. We don’t have to act on them.”

            “No.”

            “I’m so glad we agree.”

            “One hundred percent,” he told her. He licked his lips and she couldn’t help watching the action. She wrenched her gaze back to his eyes, dark as deep space and twice as easy to get lost in. She tried to form words, to say… anything to break this spell. No sound came out, even though she was mostly sure her lips moved.

            He cleared his throat. “But, uh… well, to be fair…”

            “Hm?” she managed, eyebrows rising. She hoped he had a change of topic, because she couldn’t stop staring at him.

            “You’ve heard some pretty damning things come out of my mouth. And it’s… y’know, a little uneven as it stands now…”

            She cocked her head in confusion, and he sucked in a breath and held it. She realized what he meant and blushed harder. “I… suppose that is true. I owe you that much. Things should absolutely be equal between us.” Of course, that just resurrected the memory of Shiro comparing Lance & Keith’s relationship “of equals” to his feelings for her. _If we were equals, I’d be in your arms right now. I’d’ve kissed you ages ago._ She cleared her own throat. “You… you’re handsome and strong, resourceful. A good leader; you know the talents of your team and put them to such good use, time and again. You inspire confidence in them, and in me. Whenever I feel weak, you give me strength.”

            “I have a hard time believing you could ever feel weak,” he admitted.

            “It happens more often than you think. Our task seems impossible sometimes; you give me hope that we can accomplish it.”

            He blushed more. “Thank you for that. I’m sorry if it was awkward.”

            “It was, but… you were right. It’s the least I could do after all of this. And, after all, we’re acknowledging our feelings for each other so that we can…”

            “…get over them.”

            “Right! Exactly. It… it doesn’t have to go any farther than this.”

            “Not at all.”

            “We don’t have to…”

            “…talk about it…”

            “…or hold one another…”

            “…or…” She knew exactly what word he was going to say. It was as if he _had_ said it, and she could hear it hanging in the air. And she could feel herself crumbling. Right here, this was her moment of weakness. This was when she needed him to be strong for her. But even Shiro’s strength had its limits.

            She wasn’t aware of movement, of conscious decision. She didn’t have time to think of what she should or shouldn’t be doing. It was an eyeblink and she was looping her hands around his neck, his arms were sliding around her waist, and their lips were pressed together. Kissing Shiro was a relief, like cool balm on a sunburn.

            _We shouldn’t…_ but the thought didn’t – _couldn’t_ – complete because it felt so right, so good. And when they pulled away from each other to catch their breath, he rested his head against hers and she laughed softly and refused to let go.

            “We’re not very good at this,” he said softly.

            “Maybe we need to practice,” she suggested.

            “At what? Breaking the rules or sticking to them?”

            “Breaking the ones that need to be broken,” she told him.


End file.
